


A Series of Firsts

by atlanticslide



Series: A Series of Firsts [2]
Category: Hit the Floor (TV)
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-28 22:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3872479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlanticslide/pseuds/atlanticslide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zero tells him about his foster parents, about his nickname, and Jude knows the guy doesn’t give up this kind of info easily.  But then he blows past Jude’s attempt to know more and it’s too much for Jude to wrap his mind around, the up and down of this non-relationship and what it means when Zero opens up a little bit like this and what it means when he clamps down, and Jude’s so damn <i>tired</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Series of Firsts

**Author's Note:**

> Another missing scene, this one starting from the end of their scene in 2x11.

He doesn’t ask what Zero’s doing at his apartment when he comes home. At this point he’s gotten used to Zero just being _around_ \- whether Jude’s home or not - and he doesn’t actually mind it most of the time.

He’s not sure whether or not he minds it now, though. He wants to be alone and wants to drink enough that he might forget about this day, and he also wants to unload it all on someone, because he’s been keeping everything inside for so long in a desperate attempt to retain some sort of balance, control, and instead it’s all come crumbling down. 

But Zero’s here now in any case, and Jude’s not going to kick him out. Zero seems able to tell that it’s been a rough day as soon as he sees Jude, mouth that had been open probably ready to tease or flirt or scheme snapping shut. That familiar smirk wipes away quickly, replaced by an expression that on anyone else might look something like concern.

Jude looks away from him and sinks down onto the floor in front of the couch after tossing his briefcase and keys away, needing to curl up a little, defend himself from… from whatever. Oscar, Derek, maybe even Zero. Life.

Zero doesn’t ask him what happened today, just leans against Jude’s desk and waits, uncharacteristically quiet and patient and it makes Jude hurt all the more, somehow.

_The two of you are rather loud._

He’d been happy for a little while. Tense and anxious and desperate for things he knows deep down that he can’t expect or count on, but still. Kind of happy and letting himself go a little bit, letting himself feel things, and… And his father had investigated him, had thrown it all back in his face.

He tells Zero everything that happened - not about earlier with Derek, but his conversation with Oscar - in slow, loping words, feeling passive and exhausted and Zero doesn’t say anything all the while. Jude wants, and he wants, and he wants, and he’s tried so hard and it’s just been for nothing. 

He’s still trying, though. “You heard my conversation with Derek about the coke,” he tells Zero when Zero comes to sit beside him, drops that fucking red envelope at his feet, looking over at Zero for the first time since he walked in the door. “You could have used it to hurt Derek but you didn’t. Because it would hurt me.”

He knows it’s true but he’s hoping anyway - not sure exactly for what, but hoping still for something, comforted in some small way by the gesture, even as Zero tries to brush it off.

Zero tells him about his foster parents, about his nickname, and Jude knows the guy doesn’t give up this kind of info easily. But then he blows past Jude’s attempt to know more and it’s too much for Jude to wrap his mind around, the up and down of this non-relationship and what it means when Zero opens up a little bit like this and what it means when he clamps down, and Jude’s so damn _tired_. 

“The sooner you forget about Oscar, the better off you’ll be,” Zero tells him, voice determined and sure.

Jude looks away from him, back at the envelope in his hands. “You have no idea what I’ve done for that man.” 

All he’d ever wanted was just some small sign from Oscar that there was something there - love was always probably too much to hope for, even though in the deepest recesses of himself he can admit that’s what he’s been holding onto, but at least something, affection or admiration or pride or some combination of the above. Just for Oscar to call him his son, to acknowledge that connection between them, to not balk when Jude, hopeful idiot that he is, slips up and calls him “Dad”. Everything he’s done over the past year - blackmailing Sloane and Raquel, working his way up through the agency, keeping Derek and Terrence happy, bringing Zero here - has been for Oscar, and he’s even more exhausted when he realizes that it probably even goes beyond that. He’s been working and wishing for his father’s approval for maybe his whole life, and now even the hope of someday having that relationship he’s been so desperate for has been torn away.

He feels raw and bereft, aching like someone has just died.

He sighs and drops the envelope back down to the floor, rubs both hands over his face and up through his hair. 

“C’mon,” Zero says, quietly, after a few minutes of heady silence, and pushes himself up off the floor.

Jude is sluggish, slow to react, and when he finally looks up, Zero’s got a hand outstretched towards him.

Shaking his head, Jude looks back down at his feet. “I’m not really in the mood.”

Zero doesn’t retreat. Instead he pushes his hand into Jude’s peripheral vision and sighs, “I wasn’t gonna - just come lie down. You look like you could use a good night’s sleep.”

Jude wants to ask when Zero has ever chosen a good night’s sleep over sex or beer or partying or sulking in response to a problem, but he lets the moment pass and lets Zero pull him to his feet. 

In Jude’s bedroom, Zero undresses slowly, a little self-consciously (another first), ignoring Jude’s gaze, which Jude doesn’t try to hide. They don’t usually take the time to really look at each other - too frantic, too desperate, too horny, too willing to deny that there are any deeper feelings between them than a bit of loyalty and some mild affection - but Jude is all done with giving a fuck tonight, and so he takes his fill of Zero’s chest, his abs, the cut of his hips, the shape of his ass, the muscles flexing lightly in his legs as he lifts one foot and then the other to step out of his pants. This is still all pretty new to him, looking at another guy and allowing himself to really think about him, to think about how he’d like to touch him…

_If you thought confessing your secret gay life was going to bond us…_

He closes his eyes, tries to block out the words and the memory and just focus on undoing his belt. His eyes flutter open when he feels Zero’s hands at his shirt collar, pulling at his tie, and he stands frozen as Zero loosens the knot and pulls it off, tossing it on the floor behind him. He works on the buttons of Jude’s shirt next, taking them slowly, one by one, staring down with a furrowed brow like it’s taking all of his concentration to get the buttons through the holes. 

Maybe it’s just taking all of his concentration to keep this G-rated, to not just pull the shirt open and dig his fingers into Jude’s skin and press his tongue into Jude’s mouth. And the brush of Zero’s fingertips against his chest, the warmth of Zero’s breath against Jude’s face, just the smell of him - his hair gel, that ridiculously expensive cologne he wears - are all conspiring to _put_ Jude in the mood, despite his earlier words. But for pretty much the first time since the night of the party - or maybe before, maybe since they first met - Zero isn’t rushing anything, isn’t urging or testing or taunting him, is just touching him softly. Running his hands over Jude’s shoulders and down his arms to push the shirt to the floor, pulling the zipper down on his pants and letting them drop, pulling Jude by the arm, urging him to step out of them. Jude watches him all the while, but Zero never meets his eye.

When Zero’s got him down to his underwear, he leaves Jude to flop down on his stomach on one side of the bed, hands pushed up under the pillow at his head and leaving space for Jude to stretch out beside him. It’s a warm night, hints of spring coming in the breeze that blows through his open windows, so Jude doesn’t bother with his comforter, still in a heap at the foot of his bed where they’d shoved it aside this morning when Zero had come over and pushed Jude back against the bed, and instead just pulls a sheet over them both up to their waists. 

Zero doesn’t reach for Jude, and Jude doesn’t reach for him, but he does watch Jude from across the bed, again with that uncharacteristic silence and pensiveness, as Jude feels his eyelids grow heavy with exhaustion and the weight of the day. He wants to touch Zero, wants to wrap himself around the other man’s back and press his face against Zero’s neck, breathe him in and rub his hands across Zero’s skin.

Instead, he wraps himself in Zero’s gaze and lets his eyes droop, lets the day go, lets himself drift off as Zero watches him. Perhaps watching over him.

He dreams about Oscar, dreams about that house that he didn’t grow up in, about being small and young and wandering the long hallways looking for his father while Oscar’s voice seems to seep through the walls around him, taunting, _You will never have my approval. I don’t have a son._

When he wakes the next morning his heart is racing and his palms are clammy and Zero’s still there, sprawled out on his back with one arm over his head and his feet dangling off the edge of the mattress. It's the first time Zero’s actually slept the whole night in Jude’s bed. Jude watches him and thinks, _Screw Oscar,_ and counts this as a win.


End file.
